


A Small Town Out West

by MorningOwl



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Established Relationship, I can't be mean to Earl, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory, Probably more tags as I write porn, Threesome - M/M/M, Western, but not in the way you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningOwl/pseuds/MorningOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m surprised that your talents are needed so far out in the desert, Mr. Palmer.” </p>
<p>"I am acting as an outpost, bringing the news from the West to the East. Connecting this fine country, if you will.”</p>
<p>As the country moves westward, so must its reporters. Cecil must move to the western desert town of Night Vale to bring the news to the east. The town, however, gives him more than just a job.</p>
<p>(WTNV Western!AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From a Coach to the Accommodations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a long trip out to the desert.

The stagecoach rumbled along the dusty road, kicking up clouds of soot. There hadn’t been a paved road in days, much to Cecil’s dismay. He felt every single one of his organs bounce along with the stagecoach. The woman knitting next to him did not help. More often that not her ball of yarn would fly into his lap, causing her to apologize and wave her knitting needles in his face. Also he could have sworn she was attempting to flirt with him…

Cecil lost track of how long he was in this blasted coach. After the first two days stuck with the knitting woman, the man who wore too much cologne, and the woman’s motion sick maid, Cecil was well about to run to his destination. He only had a few hours more… that was all… just a few more hours in this awful contraption.

“Tell me,” Said the other man in the coach, “Mr. Palmer, are you getting off soon?”

Cecil politely nodded. “Yes, Mr. Jacobson. Night Vale is but a few hours off.”

“Oh, it’s such a pity,” The woman whined, putting her knitting down on her lap, “The trip has been great fun, and without you here I don’t know what I will do.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“I’m afraid you must make do, Miss Travis. I am needed in Night Vale.” Cecil gave a polite smile and tried to scoot away from her.

“I’m surprised that your talents are needed so far out in the desert, Mr. Palmer.” Cecil whipped his head to look at Mr. Jacobson, thankful for the distraction from Miss Travis. “I would think that someone working for such a respected newspaper would be located in a more populous area.”

“One would think. However, I am acting as an outpost, bringing the news from the West to the East. Connecting this fine country, if you will.”

“Well, your service is greatly appreciated.” Mr. Jacobson gave a slight bow of the head.

“Oh yes!” Miss Travis replied, leaning into Cecil’s personal space. Cecil found himself pressed up against the wall of the coach. “Greatly appreciated. I will make sure to read every one of your articles.”

Before Cecil could respond, Mr. Jacobson responded, waving his arm at the woman. “Now Miss Travis, you have already expressed your disinterest in the new railroad being built.” Cecil suppressed a gag as wafts of cologne hit him every time the other man waved his arm. No wonder the maid was sick; she had to sit next to him for the entire trip. “What do you think he will report on?”

“Mr. Jacobson, I do not make the uneducated assumption that Mr. Palmer will solely report on the Transcontinental Railroad. Much more happens in the West than just an iron horse being built. Why, it wasn’t even twenty years ago California was a wilderness with few people. Now, look at it! It is a state in the Union bustling with activity and gold!” Miss Travis placed her hand on Cecil’s causing him to freeze and stare at her. “I have confidence Mr. Palmer will have many things to report on. Besides, if Mr. Palmer writes the way he speaks, even the railroad would be interesting.” Miss Travis stared at Cecil far too lovingly. Cecil nodded awkwardly. The maid seemed to be the only one that noticed the discomfort and giggled under her breath.

“I’m… happy… you have such confidence in me. I will aim to please.” Cecil gently removed her hand from his, forcing a smile in the process.

“You have my well wishes from Salt Lake City.” Mr. Jacobson pulled a bottle of cologne out from his pocket and put some on.

“And mine from Sacramento!” Miss Travis exclaimed.

“… Thank you both. However, I would like to take a quick nap before I must depart.”

“Oh! Of course!” Miss Travis settled back in her seat, picking up her knitting. Mr. Jacobson waved his arm in acknowledgement, sending another wave of cologne in Cecil’s direction. Cecil closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Anything was better than continuing a conversation with his carriage mates.

~

Miss Travis put up quite a fuss. The driver helped Cecil retrieve his bags from the top of the coach, all the while Miss Travis cooing over Cecil, insisting that he come visit her in Sacramento. Thankfully, the driver was insistent on moving along. Cecil said his farewells, paid the driver, and waited until the maid finally pulled Miss Travis back into the carriage. She was so loud that she attracted a small crowd of people. Cecil was just happy he could breathe something other than cologne in again.

The stagecoach went on its way, kicking up a cloud of dirt. Once Cecil coughed and brushed the dust from his eyes, he finally got a look at his new town.

The houses were all made of wood, and nothing was above three stories tall. The road was dirt and there were horses tied up by various buildings. The town had a rustic feel, but not the kind of rustic he got in the big city. It reminded him of homemade apple pie and the toy guns he played with as a child. And the sun, oh the sun. He felt it beat down on his skin. The air felt so fresh and the sun warmed his skin. It hadn’t been this wonderful to stand outside in, well, years!

“Mr. Palmer?” Cecil turned to find a young woman standing next to him. She wore a dress that went to her ankles, and had what looked like a sun stained bonnet on.

“Um, hello Miss. If I may ask, how do you know my name?”  Cecil asked.

The woman shifted her weight. “I’m Dana. The person the newspaper assigned you to work with?”

Memory dawned over Cecil. “Oh yes of course!” He held out his hand to shake hers. “How are you?”

“I’m well. What do you think of Night Vale so far?” She shook his hand.

“It is much smaller than what I’m used to.” Cecil confessed.

“I’m sure. Would you like to take your bags in before they get covered in dust?”

Cecil scrambled and picked up his bags. “Oh! Yes that would be wonderful.” One of his bags fell onto the ground. He glared at it as if it purposely disobeyed his wishes.

Dana bent over and picked up the offending bag. “Right this way. We are not far.” She began leading the way down the road. Cecil followed as fast as he could with three bags in his arms.

Most of the buildings had wooden porches, some with people sitting around. Everyone was more dressed down than Cecil was used to. Very few women had dressed that covered their ankles, and Cecil could have sworn he was the only one in a waistcoat!

“I hope your trip went well,” Dana interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, well enough.” Cecil ran to catch up with Dana. “I’m sure you saw the fuss Miss Travis put up.”

Dana smiled and suppressed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure everyone in town saw.”

Cecil rolled his eyes. “She was like that the entire trip.”

“Oh my,” Dana said, “I am terribly sorry.”

“Thanks.” Cecil readjusted the bags in his arms.

“There are a few important places you should know about,” Dana switched subjects. “Over there on the right is the Saloon. Five buildings down is Sheriff’s. And across from the Sheriff’s is the general store.”

Cecil looked around. He saw a few horses tied up in front of the saloon. An old man sat out in front drinking. “Is everything pretty much on this one street?” Cecil asked.

“Yep. If you get lost just find this one street.” Dana turned to step up to one of the smaller buildings. She pulled out a key and opened the door, revealing a small room.

Cecil looked around. For a small desert town, this place was well equipped. A small printing press lay in the corner, and near the window there was a mailing table. There were a few writing tables and even a desk with a fully equipped telegraph! Why, this was better than the desk he had back east!

“Welcome home. The living area is upstairs.” Dana walked by the equipment to a door in the back, opening it to reveal a rickety old staircase. She began walking up. Cecil followed. The staircase was quite narrow, so carrying his bags proved quite the challenge.

The top of the staircase opened to a small living area, with various doors leading to other rooms. There were a few chairs and bookshelves. Dana had decorated a bit, draping handmade lace over a few of the larger pieces of furniture. A vase of desert flowers sat on the coffee table.

“I know it’s not customary for an unmarried woman and unmarried man to live in the same house, but the boss could only get so much for us. I hope this fits your liking.” Dana put Cecil’s bag down on one of the chairs.

“Oh yes, it’s perfect. I love how you’ve decorated.”

“Thanks, my mother loved lace.” Dana looked around. “She made most of these.”

“They are beautiful. I think they fit the place well.”

“Good. Because you will be living here.” Dana grabbed a key from the table and handed it to Cecil. “You room is through that door second from the corner. I promised to watch a friend’s granddaughter for the evening, so I won’t be back until late tonight.”

“Alright. Thanks so much.” Cecil began walking to his room.

“And Cecil?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to walk around town. People ‘round here notice if someone new shows up. Best go and walk around town.”

Cecil nodded in understanding. “Alright, will do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the '20s to the 1860s. What fun.
> 
> All questions, complaints, compliments, and leftover gummy bears can be placed [ here](%E2%80%9Dhitintothecove.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) where they will be read or eaten. If you do decide to follow me, why thank you, but be warned I do talk about sports a lot. I know that isn't everyone's cup of tea. I post Night Vale too I swear.


	2. From a Sheriff to a Vet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone hangs around the saloon.

Cecil’s room was small, but he liked it. The bed was soft and when he opened the windows he got the smell of fresh hay. He could even watch the sun rise! He quickly unpacked his belongings, and adjusted his clothes to go out and explore the town.

The sun had begun to set, bathing the town in a beautiful orange glow. Even the dust kicked up by wagons and horses and boots seemed to glow in the sunlight. Some people walked to houses much like his own, while others walked off the main road. Most, however, seemed to be walking to the saloon.

Cecil set his sights on the swinging doors of the wooden building. He never really drank for fun back home, only during social events, but this counted as a social event, right? He _was_ being social and meeting lots of new people.

He began walking toward the saloon when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around to see a man about his height, wearing a simple shirt with what looked like jeans. He wore a hat on his head and a badge pinned to his shirt.

“Howdy, sir, are you new?” The man said.

Cecil caught himself staring. Stubble peppered the man’s tanned skin. His eyes were a lovely brown and dark, short, curly hair came out from under his wide brimmed hat.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. I’m Cecil Palmer, writer and editor for _The New York Times_.” Cecil stuck out his hand to shake.

“Well, hi there, Mr. Palmer. Glad you’ll be staying here. I hope you’ve found everything to your liking at the moment.” He shook Cecil’s hand. His grip was tight, however, Cecil did not mind. He had a sort of charm about him.

“Yes, everything is well, but may I ask who you are?”

“Oh, wow, of course. Silly me; I forgot. I’m Earl Harlan, the Sheriff. Most people call me Sheriff Harlan.”

Cecil smiled. He liked that name. It seemed to fit the man. “Very nice to meet you, Sheriff.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Palmer. I hope I’ll see you around.” The sheriff tipped his hat, and Cecil could have sworn he winked.

The reporter found himself still after meeting the kindly sheriff. Cecil really didn’t know what to feel about the man. He was not ugly, but not great looking. He was kind, but something did not strike well with Cecil. Well, he had time to think about this later. He had to go to the saloon!

He walked over to the wooden building, now filled with people from around town. The door swung open, and inside revealed what looked like a bustling party. A man played a piano in the corner. A few older women carried drinks to tables full of laughing men. A barkeep fulfilled some orders for a few men sitting at the bar. There was even a set of stairs, leading up to some doors. Cecil wondered what those were for…

The reporter made his way to the bar in the dimly light room, pushing past the drunk, laughing patrons and the story-telling cowboys. He found an empty spot at the bar, taking it.

The barkeep noticed Cecil, nodding toward him. After he put down the glass he was cleaning, he walked over to the white haired journalist.

“Howdy,” the barkeep said, “I’m Big Rico. I haven’t seen you around town before, so you must be new?”

Cecil smiled and stuck out his hand. “Yes, I just moved in today. I’m Cecil Palmer.”

Rico grabbed his hand, giving it a hard shake. “Were you the one earlier today with that woman desperately on your heels beggin’ you to go to California?”

Cecil scowled and let out an angry sigh. “Miss Travis became very fond of me during our trip.” He growled through his teeth. “I wish I could say I had the same feelings for her.”

Rico laughed, nearly knocking over some glasses. When he finally came to, he said, “Well, it seems you had quite the trip. All drinks for you are on the house tonight. Think of it as a welcome and as sympathy for your troubles.”

“You’re very kind. Do you happen to have any brandy?”

“Sure do! I’ll get that right to you.” Rico left to get the drink.

Cecil leaned onto the bar, relaxing a bit. Although there was noise everywhere, with the laughing, the yelling, the piano, the everything, something was very relaxing about being here. It was as if he was at a big family gathering.

As he waited he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to reveal a devastatingly beautiful woman giving him a very peculiar smile. Her hair was up but messy and she wore _oh my god was her skirt supposed to be that short?!_

“Hey big boy,” she said rather seductively, “You’re new around here. And cute!”

Cecil stared wide-eyed at her. He could see the top of her stockings!

“How about you and me go somewhere a little more private?” she said, putting her leg on his lap and her hands on her shoulders. Was that seriously how a woman’s underwear looked? “I’ve been told that I’m even better in private,” she whispered in his ear.

Cecil, very gently, lifted her leg off of his and put it back down, then removed her hands. “I’m, uh, very sorry, Miss.” He kept staring at the woman’s very revealing legs. “I’m not interested.” Were all women’s legs so smooth?

The woman scowled, but regained her seductive attitude quick enough. “Well, when you do become interested, ask for Trish.” She gave him a wink and walked away, her hips swaying back and forth as she moved.

Cecil stared at the woman walking away, eyes unblinking from the shock of how forward Trish was. He only turned around when he heard Rico place his drink on the counter.

Cecil stared into his glass, contemplating what more “privacy” would entail, when he heard chuckling from beside him.

“First Miss Travis and now Trish? You must be having the hardest time with women,” A deep, oaky voice said. Cecil looked over at the man. He had long hair covering his face, and he was looking down at the counter.

But, oh, when the man did look up.

Oh was he magnificent. He had dark, perfect skin, and his long hair framed his face _perfectly_ and his eyes looked like deep chocolate and his jaw was strong and covered in stubble and Cecil could barely process a thought upon seeing this perfect, wonderful man.

Cecil didn’t even catch himself staring until Carlos spoke again. “Do you have some lady friend back home that you’re not telling the local girls about?”

Cecil paused at the man’s extremely forward question. He felt his face flush and looked at his lap. “I… Uh… no.” Cecil stammered out.

“Oh quit it Carlos!” Rico walked by, giving the beautiful man a playful slap on the arm. “Don’t you think the boy has endured enough with them girls?”

Carlos snorted and dramatically rolled his eyes at Rico. He turned back to Cecil, brown eyes glistening with playfulness and possibly one too many beers. “Well then, I’ll make sure to tell Trish that I will have your time slot.” Cecil almost jumped at Rico’s sudden laughter.

Cecil took a second to comprehend what was going on. They were obviously talking about something he did not understand, and normally he would be the first to inquire, but for some reason hearing Carlos’ drunken giggles rendered him useless. That oaky voice resonated in Cecil’s head, leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy and he was definitely sure it was not the booze. He might be a lightweight but not that much of a lightweight.

“This… Miss Trish…what does she do, exactly?” Both Rico and Carlos paused at Cecil’s question.

Carlos was the first to speak up after a silence that pounded in Cecil’s ears. “Yeah, Rico, what does Trish do?”

“Well, Mr. Palmer, if you can afford her services, you can find out for yourself.” Carlos nodded in agreement. “Nice talking to ya, Carlos.” Rico walked off to the other side of the bar, tending to some other patrons.

“Afford her…services? Wha—oh. _Oh._ ” Realization dawned on Cecil. He was pretty sure that he turned beet red. Carlos laughed, holding his hand out for Cecil to shake.

“Hi, I’m Carlos Hernandez.” Cecil took the man’s, and his skin felt like velvet. This man was absolutely perfect in every way.

“Cecil Palmer, although I’m sure you already got that.”

“Did you come out to our little town for work, Mr. Palmer?” Carlos smirked. Cecil became so entranced in the man’s smile that he almost forgot to answer.

“Huh? Oh, yes. I am a reporter. My employer sent me out here. What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian.”

“Really? Are there many pets out here to take care of?”

“Not really pets, no. But out here if a horse or cow or animal is injured, they would just shoot the beast and buy a new one, but I really don’t like that.” Carlos downed the rest of his beer in one swig. “So I took to taking care of the animals. This is one of the bigger stops on the road, so the cattle drivers like to spend a little longer in town. That’s normally enough time for me to help their sick horses or cattle. I also help put on new horseshoes and other things like that.”

“Oh Carlos, that’s so sweet of you!” Cecil swooned.

“Heh, it’s nothing. I just do what I love. I do help some of the pets around the area, though.”

Cecil beamed at the gorgeous man. “Well I think that’s wonderful.”

“Thanks. If you ever want to stop by, I’m right next to the sheriff’s. I’m currently taking care of a sweet horse named Princess.”

Cecil’s heart leapt at the invitation. “I’d love to!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cecil's making friends. How sweet.
> 
> Wanna chat? You can do so [ here](%E2%80%9Dhitintothecove.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D). I reblog some WTNV, among other things. I also reblog some sports, and I know that's not everyone's cup of tea, so just so you know.


	3. From the Press to the Vet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distractions at work are unwelcome.

Cecil felt as if he was being smothered with blankets. Smashing his head with a hammer would hurt less than his throbbing headache. Everything in his throat felt fuzzy and all he could smell and taste was bitter regret. Dana standing over him shouting didn’t help.

“You had HOW many drinks last night?!”

Cecil lay on his stomach, hung over beyond belief. He was sure he looked like something one pulls out of a pig-feeding trough. Dana came in to get him up to eat breakfast, but began scolding him once she realized he downed the town’s supply of brandy last night.

“I told you to meet people, not drink yourself silly.”

Cecil mumbled into his pillow.

Dana sighed and pulled his blanket off his body, causing him to whine, but he remained steadfast and did not move. Next thing Cecil knew, Dana was poking his sides and ribcage.

“Oh my goodness stop stop I’m getting up!” Cecil yelped. He sat up on his bed, eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room. “And I said I did meet people yesterday.”

“Who?” Dana asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The Sheriff, the Barkeep, the Veterinarian… some other people…oh I don’t remember,” the reporter rubbed his head. Good god, was everything normally this loud?

“The Barkeep is nice. Anyway, I have breakfast ready. Get changed and come into the kitchen.” Dana left the room, slamming the door behind her.

~

Unfortunately, Cecil had to actually work that morning instead of nursing his hangover. He ate his, admittedly delicious, breakfast with Dana before changing into work clothes and heading downstairs to where he found at least eight telegrams waiting for him.

By the time he descended the stairs, Dana was already busy scribbling down notes or something. She turned when she heard the squeaking of the stairs. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Is something wrong?” Cecil asked.

“You’re wearing a lot of purple.” Dana said, her gaze never leaving his outfit.

The reporter looked down at his outfit. He thought it was perfectly normal. He wore his usual button shirt and his black pants, with a royal purple vest and tie. How could Dana be so confused by it?

“Um, yeah. This is normally what I wear to work, although I normally have a coat with it.”

Dana nodded, slowly turning back to her work. “You definitely are not from around here.” She commented no further.

Cecil chose to not take offence to her words. He felt lovely in his outfit and he was going to stay that way. He took a seat at his desk, rearranging everything to how he liked it. The typewriter just to the left, the telegrams just to the right. Everything within easy reach, but nice and organized. His first task was to go through the telegrams piling on the desk. He grabbed the oldest one, opening it and reading its contents. He soon realized these telegrams were from newspaper workers all over the west, giving reports about the progress of the railroad. Most just gave reports on various injuries, or how many more miles of track had been laid. About five telegrams in, he received reports on how a railroad baron had finished his tour of the new track, and was going to return to his home for a while.

Cecil turned to look at Dana. “Miss Dana?”

“Yes?” She looked up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“What do you know about Marcus Vanston?”

“Oh, he’s a railroad baron. One of the richest men this side of the Mississippi.”

Cecil took out a sheet of paper and began jotting down notes. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“Where does his track go?”

“Portland to Chicago, via Santa Fe”

“Wow. He basically spans the country. How come I haven’t heard of him before?”

Dana rolled her eyes. “He didn’t earn his fortune on the rails. He’s really new to the railroad. Marcus was rich before, and liked to keep a low profile.”

“…How do you know all of this?”

“I’m friends with his assistant, Jake. Mr. Vanston lives in Night Vale, just off Main Street. Is something going on with him? I know that he was off looking at track or something.”

Cecil chuckled. “I just got a telegram from Vithya. Apparently he’s done looking around and is coming home for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“I would like to get an interview with him.”

Dana nodded and wrote something on a different piece of paper. “I’ll contact Jake. It will probably be in two or three weeks.”

Cecil nodded, making a note of it in a notebook. “That’s fine.” He began to write up a draft of a fascinating tale of the speed of the rails being laid down. Or, at least he could make it fascinating. He taught himself how to make anything sound interesting. It was difficult making meat prices the front-page news, but somehow he made it happen. Writing a blurb about the far and distant rails wouldn’t be difficult.

Both reporters worked in silence for the good part of the morning. Cecil enjoyed the new environment; his previous desk was in the middle of a huge building, surrounded by people. The peace and quiet was much welcomed. He even got his article done before lunch.

Dana placed the article in an envelope, and left to send it off to headquarters and pick up some things for lunch. Cecil decided to write some letters to various interns around the west, asking for specific information about rails, barons, and engines. He only wrote two letters before he heard the door open.

“Howdy, Miss Da-” The sheriff walked in, looking over at first Dana’s desk, then Cecil’s. “Is Dana out?”

“Hi Sheriff. Yes, she’s running some errands.”

Earl nodded. “If ya don’t mind, I’d like to wait for her. I need to give her something.”

“What are you giving her?” Cecil sat back in his chair. Earl walked over, sitting on the edge of Cecil’s desk. He took off his hat to reveal short, thick brown hair. Cecil thought his hair looked rough.

Earl smiled and fiddled with his hat. “Just a crime report. There’s a local newspaper, but the normal editor is on vacation. Dana is helping out with it until she comes back.”

Cecil scanned the sheriff up and down. There was a perfectly good chair right across the desk. He really couldn’t fathom why the man chose to sit on the desk. “I didn’t know there was a local newspaper.”

Earl nodded, smiling. “Leanne Hart is the main editor. But recently her brother’s been in a bit of trouble. She’s out of town helping him and visiting Montana.”

“How unfortunate.” Cecil said flatly. “I do hope she comes home soon.”

Earl shrugged. They both sat in a moment of awkward silence. Earl refused to look at Cecil, and Cecil refused to continue working until the man was off his desk. The reporter didn’t understand why Earl just didn’t give him the report and leave. Not that the good sheriff was rude, but this was unnecessary.

“You enjoyin’ your time so far?” Earl finally asked.

“Yes. The mornings are beautiful.”

“That they are. I’m glad you get to see them.”

“Hm, I’m glad I can watch them.”

Earl took a deep breath. “Um, Mr. Palmer, if you would like, feel free to drop by after 8 for a drink. A few of us sometimes get together to drink, but without the noise of the saloon.” Cecil stared up at Earl at the invitation. Was it his imagination, but was the good sheriff… blushing?

“Maybe not tonight.” Cecil said, apprehensive.

Earl’s face seemed to fall. “Of course. Whenever you are settled and want to drop by.”

Cecil was about to respond, when the door opened. Both men looked to the door to see Dana walk in carrying a little bag. She closed the door behind her and walked immediately to her desk.

“Mr. Palmer, I got you those caramels you wanted and for lunch we’ll ha--” Dana finally looked up, “Sheriff? When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” Earl removed himself from Cecil’s desk and walked over to Dana’s desk, producing a piece of paper. “Crime reports.”

Dana took the paper, scanning it over. “Thank you, Sheriff,” she said without looking up. “I’ll be sure to put these in.”

Earl nodded a thank you. “Miss Dana, Mr. Palmer,” he said before leaving. The door clicked shut and Cecil felt every nerve in his body relax and unwind, however he still had a bitter taste in his mouth. Why did the man want to just sit and talk with a reporter, anyway? Didn’t he have work to do around town?

Cecil felt completely put off from writing letters and telegrams. He just needed some fresh air. Yes, that was it, fresh air. He stood up and grabbed a caramel from Dana’s desk. She looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

Cecil popped the candy in his mouth. “I just need a walk.”

He left the building without looking back.

~

Cecil barely paid the street any attention. Everyone flitted from place to place. He could barely care. He had one destination to find.

There was a large building with big wooden lettering. The sign said “sheriff” in big letters. One couldn’t miss it if they tried. Cecil stared up at the building, sucking on his candy with his hands in his pockets. He took in the old, sun bleached building. It stood about two stories tall, with windows just open enough to let in a breeze. He didn’t know if Earl was inside or not. And he really did not care.

Cecil let his gaze drift over to the unmarked building next door. It had been painted a dark blue, and most of the windows and doors were open. When his gaze finally looked inside, he found the man he had been looking for.

Carlos had his hair tied up while he pounded on a piece of metal. The room he was in was small, but had many doors leading to various other rooms. There was also an open door leading directly to the back, where Cecil saw stalls for horses.

Cecil entered, watching Carlos work. He was so focused on whatever he was pounding that Cecil presumed the vet could see every little detail in the metal. The way his brow furrowed, the way just a few strands of gorgeous hair fell by his face, the man was beautiful.

Cecil stepped on a squeaky floorboard. Carlos spoke without looking up.

“I’m still working, Mr. McDaniels. Blue will have her new shoe on by tomorrow.” He finished examining the metal before heating it and pounding again.

“Blue? Interesting name for a horse.” Cecil said.

Carlos looked up, a smile forming on his lips.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Palmer. I would recognize your voice anywhere.” Carlos put down his work, wiping his hands on a rag. He stood up beaming at Cecil. Cecil almost fell speechless. The way his hair framed his face and the sheen of sweat on dark skin made Cecil’s knees go weak. Cecil wondered if he could tell.

“I’ve been told that about my voice before.” Cecil tried to say in his most sultry tone. It just came out sort of flat and confused. He mentally kicked himself.

Carlos leaned against the wall, eyes never leaving Cecil. “I believe it. I’ve never heard a voice like yours.”

Cecil blushed against his will. Even though it probably wasn’t that noticeable, he felt as if a fire burned under his skin. “So, what are you working on?”

“Oh!” Carlos lit up. “One of Mr. McDaniels’ horses needs a new shoe on her. I’m just replacing it.”

“One? How many horses does he have?”

Carlos sighed. “Five, and he’s convinced they are dragons.”

Cecil’s face fell. “…Dragons?”

The Vet rolled his eyes. “Yes. Dragons. I work for him because he has money and animals, not because I think he’s sane.”

“Well, at least that’s more animals to work with.” Cecil offered, wincing at how ridiculous his sentence sounded.

“Exactly. Now, Mr. Palmer, what can I do for you?”

Cecil shrugged. He tried to hide his embarrassment. He couldn’t very well say he wanted to see the man because he found him attractive. That was horribly forward! “I just needed to get out. I’ve been stuck at my desk all morning.”

“Do you work at the printing press?”

Cecil nodded. “I worked the morning through until the Sheriff dropped by.”

Carlos looked surprised. “Why did Mr. Harlen drop by?”

Cecil’s expression darkened. “He had to give something to Dana, but he just weirdly sat on my desk for a bit and tried to make conversation.”

Carlos paused. “Huh. That’s odd.” The vet seemed to be thinking in his own world. Cecil was confused, but let Carlos be. It was best not to question.

Carlos finally sighed. “I should get back to work.”

“…Alright. It was nice seeing you, Mr. Hernandez.”

“Stop by anytime, Mr. Palmer.”

Cecil smiled and left the dark blue building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time to see Cecil receive some unwelcome news, Carlos care for a kitty, and Earl cooks a bit.
> 
> If you want to bother me, you can do so  here. I post a bit of WTNV, as well as other things. And some sports, if that's your thing.


	4. From Dragons to an Unwelcome Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil goes about town with his friends, and then receives an extremely unwelcome letter regarding an extraordinarily unpleasant man.

Throughout the next few days, Cecil received more telegrams, wrote and sent more articles, and slept more than he had in any city. It was so quiet around town! There wasn’t any factory noise or hoards of drunkards wandering down the street in the early hours of the morning. Even during the day, Cecil found he could focus much easier with out twenty other reporters taping away at their own typewriters.

Because he focused more, he found himself getting work done faster, much to his joy. He helped out with the local newspaper Dana worked on. He and Dana often would walk about town, greeting people and window-shopping. Dana introduced him to a lovely elderly woman named Josie, and her granddaughter Tamika. Once, the four took a walk together to the library, where they spotted some commotion down the street. Upon investigation (by the insistence of Tamika), they ended up finding Earl, Carlos, Mr. McDaniels, and Big Rico chasing five horses.

“Hernandez! I thought you said your stables would keep my Dragons safe!”

“I’m sorry, sir! My stable door broke!”

“Dammit Carlos! I can’t have no horses running around my Saloon!”

“Did he just call them Dragons?”

“Shut up, Earl.” Carlos frantically looked around, trying to grab the reins of one of the horses. “Mr. Palmer! Assistance, if you will!”

Cecil ran up, helping the four men. Cecil grabbed the reigns of one horse, accidently pulling the horse’s head toward his own. He ended up with a face full of horse slobber. Before he had any time to react, the horse had licked his head again, making his white hair stand straight up.

Rico and Earl managed to get two of the horses under control. The other two, however, had taken the example of their peer and started to lick Cecil’s head as well.

“Um, Mr. Palmer?” Carlos asked, carefully walking toward the man surrounded by horses.

“Yes?” Cecil asked. A horse licked Cecil’s bangs straight up. Dana started cackling and fell on the ground.

“You got the horses to calm down.”

“I see.” Tamika joined Dana laughing on the ground.

“What soap do you wash your hair with?” Mr. McDaniels asked. Rico and Earl both stared at the scene before them, Rico with his mouth open and Earl blushing furiously.

“I brought a special soap from home.” Cecil muttered a _pleasedon’tdothat_ as a horse licked his sideburn.

“There isn’t a special ingredient that horses might like, is there?”

“…Sugar. For exfoliation.” One horse got so excited it almost knocked Cecil down. Dana and Tamika kept laughing hysterically while Carlos and McDaniels helped Cecil escape from his slobber covered hell.

They couldn’t make it to the library because it took nearly twenty minutes to get Dana to stop laughing at Cecil’s hair.

~

Dana was out getting the mail, leaving Cecil alone to work. He was just about two steps from finishing his work for the day, and he needed to unwind. Some of the articles were just not coming to him easily. He could not wait for a nice hot cup of milk and a chance to unwind.

Dana opened the door, hands full of mail, packages, and various other items.

“We got paid.” She said, throwing an envelope on Cecil’s desk.

“Hurrah!” Cecil placed the envelope on his desk and went to help Dana put down some items.

“You got a letter.”

“From who?”

“I don’t know. I don’t read your mail.” Dana replied, going to open her own mail.

Cecil rolled his eyes and opened the letter. The handwriting was impeccable. He only knew one person with that handwriting…

_Dear Cecil,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and adjusted to your new home. I wish I could say the same. I am writing you to tell you that Janice’s health has not improved over the past six months. The doctor says he does not know what to do, other than maybe the cold is affecting her health._

_This is why, dear brother, we have made the decision to move out to Night Vale with you. Steve says the winters will be much nicer to Janice. We leave the day I send this letter. Don’t worry, Steve contacted a local farmer and will be working there. I know you worry about him as much as you worry about Janice._

_Much Love,_

_Your Sister_

Cecil’s jaw dropped somewhere around halfway through the second paragraph. His family, moving out to Night Vale? It’s not that he didn’t want to see Janice again. They had a very emotional goodbye before he left for Night Vale. He would see Janice at least once a week, taking her on trips to the local sweets shop or the park, or on a special occasion, to the beach. Honestly, telling her he was leaving was harder than telling his sister. Janice cried every time he visited after he told her, begging him not to leave. It almost made him want to stay, seeing her little red face soaked with tears.

But Steve confirmed his reasons for leaving. God, that man was such a jerk! Cecil didn’t approve of him when his sister asked to marry Steve, but Cecil’s parents did. Cecil had never been so grumpy at a wedding before in his life.

“Mr. Palmer?” Dana tried to get the reporter out of his daze. “Cecil? Are you okay?”

Cecil jolted out of his thoughts. “Huh? What’s going on?”

Dana gave a concerned glance and took a seat across Cecil’s desk. “You read that letter and then froze with your mouth open. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Cecil scratched the back of his neck. “My sister wrote that she is moving her family out to Night Vale.”

“Is this a good thing?”           

“Yes and no. I miss her and my niece. A lot. But I hate the man she married. He’s such a jerk.”

Dana made a face. “No place to escape him in a town you can walk the length of in ten minutes.”

“Exactly.” Cecil threw the letter off to the side and rest his face in his hands, leaning his body weight on the desk. He heard Dana stand up and open a cabinet. After listening to her shuffle around a bit, he finally looked up when she places something on his desk.

“Drink this and take the rest of the day off.” She smiled down at him as she pushed a glass towards him.

He picked up the glass, examining the golden liquid inside. “Rum?”

“Brandy. I have in with Big Rico.” Dana winked and walked back over to her desk.

“I have no idea where the newspaper found you, but I will personally make sure you never lose your job.” The reporter took a sip. The brandy was wonderful. He hadn’t had brandy this smooth since he left for the desert.

Dana laughed.

Cecil made the long trek upstairs to his room, quickly downing his drink before flopping onto his bed. He stared up at the shadows on the ceiling. He had to get his mind off his family. He would never relax if he thought about them all night.

He could think about the various residents of his new home. That might work. Dana is the best assistant he could have. Old Woman Josie is a dear. He still needed to try her secret cookie recipe. Tamika always raved about it when she didn’t talk about her new stories. Rico always has the best stories. Earl’s a bit odd, but he seems really nice. Carlos-

Oh, beautiful, sweet Carlos.

The time Cecil had been around had not changed his thoughts on the gorgeous man. Granted, Carlos did have a bad habit of forgetting when Cecil and he were going to go drinking at Rico’s, but the man was still the pinnacle of physical perfection. Cecil sometimes wondered what his smooth skin would feel like, covered in dust and sweat from the day. He always imagined Carlos’ hand would be rough, but the skin of his face would be so soft and…

Cecil paused his thoughts as he felt the front of his pants grow tighter. Oh god… thank goodness he was alone. When was the last time he was able to… um… make love to anyone? It must have been when he was studying in Europe with his two exes. He hadn’t seen anyone when he moved back to the United States. And, to be honest, he became a bit of a workaholic once he got his job at the newspaper. It wasn’t until now that he realized how long it has been. He couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he touched himself. When did he job take over his life like this?

Cecil let his hands drift down to his trousers, undoing the laces. His fingertips brushed against his erection through his underwear, causing a low moan to escape his lips. He instantly became red; he had no idea how much Dana could hear downstairs. He moved one hand to rest against his lips while the other continued to pull his dick free.

The reporter took in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cold air against his skin. A bead of precum had already formed. Cecil was almost a little disappointed in himself at how horny he was without even really being touched. Then again, if he were with Carlos right now he would be dripping. The thought of Carlos’ hand rubbing Cecil was enough to get the reporter buck up in his bed.

Cecil began to slowly pump himself, imagining Carlos next to him. He knew deep down he shouldn’t be thinking of his friend like this, but it felt so good and it had been so long and the brandy was just wonderful, and _ooohh yes right there._

He hummed into the back of his hand as his thumb brushed against his tip. He imagined Carlos kissing him all over, reaching down and making him squirm and scream and moan. Maybe Carlos would take him quickly, getting him to spend as fast as he can, or maybe Carlos was a tease, testing Cecil’s limits by bringing him right to the edge but not going any farther. The thought made Cecil thrust up into his hand. Either option sounded wonderful right now.

The more he moaned into his hand the more he realized how fast the tension was building. He was going to spend far too quickly. He could barely enjoy it if he was already panting and squirming. He needed to slow down…yes that was it, slow down. How could it do that? He could think of someone he didn’t particularly care for. The sheriff was a slightly odd fellow. He would do. He wasn’t the most handsome man in town, especially when compared to Carlos. Cecil imagined him next to Cecil, gently rubbing Cecil until he spent, sweetly taking his time and lovingly kissing Cecil all over his face and neck and chest and…

This wasn’t working. Cecil was so close. His fingered brushed against his tip again and he had to bite down on his hand to stop the scream from his throat. Everything went white and for a few seconds all Cecil felt was the post-orgasmic bliss he had missed all these years.

The buzz slowly went away and all the report felt was sticky and confused. He would have to wash this outfit himself. The more he looked down the more this idea was cemented in his brain. …He could not let Dana see this suit for a while. He removed his hand from his mouth and could see the bit marks in his skin. They didn’t hurt too much, but he might have to think of an excuse if a bruise formed. He stood up to get cleaned up, quickly removing his soiled clothes.

…He didn’t really think of the sheriff in that way, did he? Of course not. He was just deprived of some relief for a while. It had been a few years. He could have thought of anyone that way and it wouldn’t matter. …Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You keep believing that, Cecil.
> 
> Wanna bother me? I post a variety of things [ here](%E2%80%9Dhitintothecove.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D). Welcome to Night Vale, stupid jokes, a couple of animes, it's all there.


	5. From introductions to dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil meets some new residents in town, gets a pet, and meets up with some old residents.

“Let me get this straight.” Teddy Williams put down his drink to fold his hands on the table and lean in towards the reporter. “You hate this man so much you _objected_ to your own sister’s wedding.”

“Yep.” Cecil took a sip of his water.

Teddy Williams, owner of the only toy shop in town, and John Peters, the farmer, sat with Cecil in the corner of Rico’s saloon. The place was quiet for the time being. It was mid-afternoon, and if Cecil was perfectly honest, the only reason they were there was to escape the blazing sun. Cecil had met these men before, but due to John living on the outskirts of town and Teddy out of town to buy more supplies, the reporter rarely saw the two. It was nice to catch up. Even if the conversation turned to Cecil’s family woes.

“I can’t believe I hired this guy.” John rested his face in his palm.

“I don’t know how he is with work ethic,” Cecil continued, “But I like to think that my sister can talk him into doing anything.”

Teddy shrugged. “If he works, why bother? You really do need the help, John. Your corn crop seems to grow bigger every year, and it seems half of it goes to waste because the crows get it first.”

John reluctantly shrugged in response and downed his drink. He was the only one having alcohol at the table. He took the afternoon off to be in town, while the other two still had to work a bit.

Someone else opened the door, causing the few people in the saloon to turn their heads. A snappily dressed man walked in, a beautiful woman on his arm. He wore a silk vest, very much like the ones Cecil wore, but his dress shirt was not the same shade of lavender. Instead, it was a very light yellow. His skin was very fair, much like the reporter’s, but instead of Cecil’s white hair, this man’s hair was jet black. As black as the silk tie around the man’s neck.

The woman in tow was dressed in what looked to Cecil as a dress obviously imported from Britain. Dust brushed the hem of the skirt as it dragged on the ground. Yellow ruffles draped her physique, complementing her figure without being revealing. She even had perfect brown ringlets, protected from the sun by a lace parasol. She was now putting away the umbrella as she entered.

Both had smile curled on their lips.

Most of the patrons quietly went back to their own business. Cecil slowly turned his attention away, noticing both John and Teddy trying to make sense of the two outsiders.

“So…” John whispered in a low tone, “I don’t think they’re in here for a couple of whiskeys and a romp with one of the girls upstairs.”

Teddy shook his head and grimaced. Cecil looked over at the duo talking to Rico. Rico did not seem comfortable talking to the two. After a beat, Rico pointed to the three sitting in the corner.

Cecil’s palms became sweaty. “They’re coming toward us.” The reporter whispered.

“What?!” John whispered back. All three looked over to the two walking toward the table, smiles plastered on their face. Cecil politely smiled back, hoping the other two men would do the same.

“Hi.” The man said once he had approached the table. “Do you mind if we sit here?”

“N-no, not at all. Take a seat.” Teddy Williams replied. The three made room while the man grabbed two chairs, first seating the woman and then himself.

“I’m Kevin Mallard, and this is my wife, Lauren.”

“Charmed.” The woman smiled.

“Uh, Hello Mr. and Mrs. Mallard. I’m Teddy Williams, owner of the toy shop in town.”

“I’m Cecil Palmer, reporter.”

“And I’m John Peters, the farmer.”

Kevin brightened and sat up straighter in his seat. “Oh, Mr. Peters! We have been looking for you.”

John’s eyes widened. Both Teddy and Cecil looked around nervously. The duo’s unwavering smile began to disturb the men. “You have?”

“Yes,” the woman cheerfully replied. For the first time, Kevin’s smile turned into a snarl as he looked over at Lauren. But just as quickly as his smile disappeared, it formed on his face once again. “We are the proprietors of the Strex Meat Packaging and Distribution Corporation. My husband and I are hoping to open a rest point in Night Vale.”

“Absolutely.” Kevin interjected. Lauren’s face grew the same snarl Kevin just had. And in an instant, it was gone. “We wanted to know what kind of farming you do. To see if our interests conflict, you see.”

“...Ah. Well, I mainly farm agricultural. I provide most of the vegetables to Night Vale.” Cecil saw John fold his hands on his lap.

Kevin cocked his head to one side. “Oh wonderful! If you don’t mind, my wife and I would like to discuss your property boundaries. We wouldn’t want our livestock to accidently eat the food supply of Night Vale.” Kevin giggled.

John hesitated. “No, that would not end well. How about we meet up once you and your wife are all settled in town. In a day or so.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Lauren purred. Her curls bounced against the back of her head as she talked. “Night Vale seems like such a lovely town. Have you all been here long?”

Teddy nodded. “Yes ma’am. I took over the toy store from my father.”

“Ooh, are there many children in Night Vale?” Lauren asked.

“Enough. We do have our own school.” Teddy answered. “Do you two have any children?”

Kevin and Lauren looked at each other, both with an expression of mild disgust. “No, …unfortunately.” Lauren replied when she turned her attention back to Teddy. “It is difficult to run a business and raise young children, especially since we are always on the move.”

“Of course.” Cecil said, trying to make polite conversation. This, unfortunately, backfired when Lauren turned her head to stare at the reporter.

“How about yourself, Mr…?”

Cecil politely smiled. “Palmer. And I have only been here for a few months.”

“New as well?” Kevin asked, for once showing confusion on his face rather than unwavering joy. “What brings you to Night Vale, Mr. Palmer?”

Cecil gulped in fear. “Uh, work. I send reports to the newspaper about the improving railroads.”

“How wonderful!” Kevin responded. “It’s always good to keep the public informed.”

“Indeed.” Cecil began to freak out, but kept his cool face he learned from working with the newspaper. No need to show fear to these people when there was no reason. They probably are harmless anyway. They just… smile a lot. No reason for fear. “As a meat packing company, do you intend to open a factory here?”

“Oh, no,” Kevin shook his head and held out his hand. Cecil almost flinched away from the long fingers as if they would shock him. “We drive our own cattle to our station where we can load them onto the cattle cars. I’m assuming you’re familiar with this process?”

“Yes, however I mostly reported on happenings in Washington D.C. before I was transferred over to report on the railroads.”

“Of course. We merely intend to have a stop for our cattle and drivers to rest before they continue.”

Cecil gave a polite smile. “Absolutely,” he ground out between his teeth, “I hope you find Night Vale as welcoming as I have.”

“You are too kind, Mr. Palmer,” Lauren purred, “However, we do need to find our residence. Isn’t that right, _sweetie_?” Cecil flinched at how Lauren nearly spat out the endearment.

Kevin looked, no, glared at Lauren. “You’re correct, _dear_.” He turned back to the table. “Thank you so much for your time, gentlemen.”

The three men murmured their farewells as the couple stood up and left the establishment. Rico watched them leave, nearly slumping over his bar when they exited. John Peters slumped down in his chair, downing the rest of his drink.

“This is why I never come into town.” John placed his glass on the table with a loud clink.

~

Teddy agreed to take the very tipsy farmer back home, mercifully leaving Cecil to walk back home in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. The reporter felt as if he was wrapped in his mother’s quilt. The scent of dinner being prepared surrounded the main street. Cecil lost himself in the warmth he felt through his shirtsleeves and vest and the scent of a good home cooked meal from every house.

Which reminded him. Dana was going out tonight, so he had to cook for himself. Oh, that was… going to be different. It’s not like he never cooked for himself, he just wasn’t good at it. He could never get spices just right. His food was always bland.

Cecil was just about to turn into his house when he spotted Carlos standing outside his own house, appearing to try and tame a very fluffy animal. Cecil stood there confused, but trotted over.

“Mr. Hernandez. Do you need assistance?”

“Mr…Mr. Palm— _AACH!_ ” Carlos lost control of the animal, which clawed its way out of his arms. Cecil scooped up the animal. He realized the ball of fur was a cat, and held it by its scruff. He animal immediately calmed down in Cecil’s arms.

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve been trying to get that cat to calm down for the past half hour!”

“Oh?” Cecil asked, holding his face up to the cat and scratching it behind its ears. The cat purred happily.

“Yeah. I’ve never worked well with cats. I think I’m allergic.”

“Where did you get this guy?”

Carlos shrugged. “I found him wandering around. Don’t know where a long hair Siamese cat came from out in the desert. Washed him up and fed him, and then he decided he no longer liked me.”

“He’s beautiful.” Cecil said.

“He is. He also seems to like you.” The cat affectionately began to play with Cecil’s hand. Carlos chuckled to himself. “Wanna keep him?”

Cecil perked up. “Can I?”

Carlos shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sure. Unless someone comes to claim him.”

Cecil grinned. “I’d love to take care of the little guy.”

“Great! Glad to see him get a home.” Carlos pushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Cecil felt his knees go weak. Oh goodness, his hair had a beauty to it like no other. Cecil desperately wanted to touch it.

“You…you done working for the day?” Cecil tried, mentally smacking himself for asking such a silly question.

Carlos seemed oblivious to Cecil’s internal struggles and smiled. “Oh yes, I am done for today. I’m just about to head on over to Earl’s for dinner.” Carlos looked at his shoes and gave a shy smile. “Wanna join?”

Cecil’s face fell. While he did want to spend time with Carlos, he didn’t like the prospect of also spending it with the Sheriff. But on the other hand, a cooked meal did sound better than anything Cecil could make.

What’s the worst that can happen?

“Sure. I’d love to.” Cecil smiled.

Carlos grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth. “Wonderful. Come to the Sheriff’s office in half an hour.”

Cecil nodded and headed back to the printing press, cat in tow. Hopefully the dinner wouldn’t be too bad. Even if Earl was there, Carlos was also there. Carlos could make any dinner wonderful.

And Carlos had just given him this cat! …He should think of a name. It’s a bit rude to just keep calling him “the cat.” Cecil began to think of names as he approached the door.

Dana was still finishing up some paper work when Cecil kicked the door open. She flinched and dropped her pen when he shouted, “HIS NAME IS KHOSHEKH CAN WE KEEP HIM?!”

~

With Khoshekh very happily settled on Cecil’s bed, the man walked over to the Sherriff’s office. Dana went to eat at Old Woman Josie’s. As Cecil walked alone, his mind ran a mile a minute about this dinner. Was he going to be okay coming face to face with Earl? He hadn’t seen him since his… alone time. No, no, he couldn’t think about that. That would make things too awkward. Earl was a good man who upheld the law, even if he was a little bit weird and was constantly covered in dust.

Cecil walked into the Sheriff’s office, looking around at the first floor. There was very little; a desk on one side and a temporary cell on the other. To Earl’s credit, the place was kept impeccably clean. Not a paper out of place. Even the coat on the coat rack seemed to hang in alignment with everything else.

Cecil heard some noise from upstairs, and decided to walk up. The staircase wound up to the second floor. He walked into a sitting room, kept tidy and organized. It was not as decorated as his own living abode, but the few chairs and even a couch made the place homey.

“Oh really? I thought he served his time for his tax fraud violation.” Carlos’ oaky, beautiful voice rang from the kitchen. Cecil’s ears immediately perked up.

“Nope, he still has some community service to fulfill.” He then heard Earl’s voice. Cecil walked to the kitchen. He found Earl cooking away while Carlos sat on a stool off to the side. Carlos was the first to notice the reporter.

“Howdy! Glad you could make it. How is the little fluffball?”

Cecil smiled. Carlos looked so relaxed and poised, even on a stool. “He’s fine. He’s taken refuge on my bed for the time being.”

Earl looked up from his pot. “Howdy. Dinner will be in about ten minutes.”

Cecil glanced at the sheriff. He was out of uniform and…wow that shirt flattered him much better than the uniform one did. He looked like he washed off the dust and changed into more comfortable clothes. His hair was slicked back and framed his face nicely. Not as nice as Carlos’ hair, but still.

“Wonderful.” Cecil replied.

“We’re having noodles and Dutch Oven Trout.” Carlos smiled. He looked over at Earl lovingly. Or, at least it looked lovingly to Cecil. Which confused Cecil. He had never seen Carlos act that way to Earl before on Main Street.

“That sounds delicious.” Cecil idly commented.

Earl gave a short chuckle, looking over to Cecil. His cheeks held a light blush. “I sure hope so. I’ve only made it a few times.”

“Oh hush you,” Carlos said, “It tastes wonderful.” Carlos got down from his stool and went to get some mitts to get the trout out of the oven. Earl got out of his way and continued to stir the noodles. Carlos took out the Dutch oven and left the room to the dining room table.

“Mr. Palmer, can you hand me that sieve?” Earl pointed to the cabinet.

“Sure.” Cecil opened it to find the sieve. He noticed that Earl had quite the collection of kitchen utensils. The last time he had seen this many was when he went to that interview and the woman’s personal cook had quite the array.

Cecil handed Earl the item and Earl quickly strained the noodles and put them in a bowl to serve.

“Dinner’s in the other room.” Cecil followed Earl to where Carlos was setting the table for three. Earl put down the noodles and motioned for Cecil to sit down. As they ate they all chatted about their day, the neighbors, the stores, the problems, the flowers, everything. Carlos especially was interested in the East Coast. Earl smiled all through dinner. He would occasionally look at Cecil and blush, looking back down at his plate. Cecil was also sure that he caught Carlos do it at least once. He knows he did it with Carlos.

Cecil was happy. He had nice friends. …Yes, Earl was a friend. Carlos was a friend. And he was happy with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear on my beloved baseball bat that I will not kill the cat this time.
> 
> I promise.
> 
> No really.
> 
> If you wanna talk to me you can do so [ here](%E2%80%9Dhitintothecove.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D). I blog about different things.


	6. From an Interview to…What Did You Say?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil is frustrated with the fact that he can not get a good article for the paper. And when he does finally get one, other news reveals itself.

Cecil sat as his desk, looking over the latest reports. Maureen sent in some news from California. It was… dull, to say the least. Cecil was to have the second page next edition and gods how was he going to make something interesting about this?! Most of the people in the east wouldn’t care about a decision to make the track go slightly west due to an incline. Cecil was surprised Maureen even sent that in. It must be really boring out there. He would have to ask her.

He quickly wrote out a letter to her and sealed the envelope when Dana walked in. She held a few packages wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Cecil looked up as she entered, happy for some sort of distraction.

“Howd-”

“Can’t talk. Give me a second.” Dana rushed up the stairs, probably to put the food away. Cecil was left confused. Also he hoped she picked up something for his lovely new kitty. Khoshekh needed lots of food to keep his coat beautiful. He recently found his happy little spot where he always napped, much to Cecil’s delight. The cat found a shelf in the bathroom, just about 4 feet off the ground, and Cecil and Dana converted it to a little cat heaven. Cecil fixed him a bed and Dana called in someone to secure a water bowl right there. Khoshekh couldn’t stop purring for days after they made it.

Pretty soon Dana came storming down the stairs. Her heels made loud, angry noises on the old wooden steps, alarming Cecil. He watched her power down the stairs, skirts catching the air and flying about around her.

“You. Notepad. Now.” She commanded. Cecil was shocked by her sudden behavior, but complied with her demands to see what she would do next. Something must be going on if she’s in this much of a bustle.

Dana grabbed a spare chair and put it right in front of Cecil’s desk, plopping herself down. “You’ll never guess what I just found out.”

“What?” Cecil leaned in, enraptured with what the woman had to say. “Also, is this local or…?”

“Local. Take notes.” Dana finally got around to untying the ribbons of her bonnet. “So apparently John Peters, you know, the farmer was approached by two people.”

Cecil paused his note taking. “Wait. Do these people own a meat packing business?”

Dana looked at him as if he was insane. “How did you know that?”

Cecil shrugged. “I think they came by Big Rico’s a few days ago. I had some drinks with John and Teddy. They definitely weren’t there to see the ladies upstairs.”

“Did the woman look like she could be the Queen of England if Victoria was partially evil and hated Albert?” Dana looked scared for her life.

Cecil nodded, eyes going wide with fear.

“Well,” Dana continued, “Apparently they wanted to buy some land off of John to build a cattle driving path. Nearly a third of his land.”

Cecil’s mouth dropped in shock. John was pretty much the only source of vegetables Night Vale had. Cecil’s mind rushed back to the letter from his sister. That would also put Steve out of a job!

“They can’t do that!” Cecil nearly shouted before scribbling down the information.

“That’s why John didn’t sell them the land! Then he told me that they gave him this scary evil look, and this huge creepy grin and said they wanted to discuss this with him later.” Dana swallowed, as if to calm herself from all the news. “I saw John in town buying more feed. He looked like he saw a ghost, even though this happened yesterday.”

“Oh my…” Cecil unhappily took down the notes.

Dana shook her head. “It doesn’t end there. So Cactus June was in town as well. She’s been hearing stories of the two going around to other people and wanting to buy land.”

Cecil was genuinely shocked. He hadn’t heard much about Cactus June. All he knew was that she lived out in the desert far beyond the town limits. She rarely was in town, and normally came when Cecil was working, so he never got to meet her. “Well they would need to trek the wilderness with their cows.”

Dana gave an over exaggerated shrug. “I guess so. So June and I decided to pay the two a visit. We went to welcome them into town, and I have never had someone scare me so much.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Did you find out anything about them?”

“Yep. Kevin wasn’t in, but his wife was. Lauren, I mean. They work for Strex, a meat packing company. It’s main facility is in Chicago, but the company started in a town called Desert Bluffs. Also Lauren gets all her clothes imported from England and France.” Dana had a bit of disdain in her voice.

Cecil just paused. “…Wow.”

“That’s pretty much all I got. She was pretty secretive. We talked about her personal life a bit. I didn’t think a woman could dislike her husband that much.”

“You got that feeling as well?”

Dana nodded. “Strong, too. She hates that man.”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure Kevin hates her just as much.”

Dana smiled. “The ideal marriage, what every woman looks forward to.” She stood up and headed over to her own desk. “Also, quick schedule change. Marcus Vanston will be dropping by later today to talk about his train plans.”

Cecil smiled, relived. Looks like he had more to write on besides Maureen’s letter. “Oh thank goodness.”

~

Cecil got a few hours of work in before Marcus and his assistant Jake came in. Dana had gone off to cook something with all the packages she bought earlier that day. Apparently she was good friends with Jake and they were going to have a late lunch upstairs. Cecil whined about not getting the nice food and Dana gave him a slice of the meat to make him shut up and get back to work.

Cecil had just finished up editing a piece for the local newspaper when the two walked in. Marcus definitely presented himself as if he was from more familiar territory to Cecil. He wore a three-piece suit with a colorful, embroidered vest, much like the ones Cecil wore. He even wore a top hat that fit perfectly on his head.

“Mr. Palmer! It’s a pleasure.” Marcus held out his hand for a firm handshake.

Cecil happily reciprocated. He loved Night Vale, but it had been a hard transition from the city life to out in the desert. Seeing someone familiar to what he knew was a nice breath of familiar air, like his old home.

“Mr. Vanston, the pleasure is mine.” Cecil motioned for Marcus to sit down. Dana and Jake had already gone upstairs for lunch. Cecil sat down at his desk and pulled out his notebook.

“Nice place you got here. I mean, not quite as nice as mine.” Marcus was looking around.

Cecil laughed in response. “I wouldn’t think it would be as nice.”

Marcus nodded fondly. “You’re not from around here.”

“No, I’m not. I’m from the East. You caught me.”

“I am as well. But I moved to Night Vale when I was 15.” Cecil jotted that down. “20 years in a small town. Not too bad. But I guess we should talk about this whole train thing, or whatever.”

Marcus divulged all he would to Cecil. He was already rich, but saw a market in the railroad business. He immediately invested in the necessary supplies and all that was involved. Not only did he provide a transportation service, he now could take his previous business ventures to other parts of the country. He said it would all be functional by the next year.

Cecil smiled the entire time. Finally, an interesting story! And not only that, he had a story he could follow and a person to capture the audience’s interest. Oh, the readers would love Marcus; someone of their own kind who moved to the small town and became rich. Cecil could make this man nationally famous.

After an hour or two the sun started to set and bathe the wood houses in a lovely orange. Once again the smell of cooked food started to engulf the town. Marcus stood up to shake Cecil’s hand.

“Pleasure talking to you, Mr. Palmer.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Vanston.” Cecil happily shook Marcus’ hand. “Will you be in town for awhile?”

Marcus coolly put on his top hat and adjusted his bowtie. “Until my next round for inspection. By then we’ll have the stretch from Night Vale to Fifnorp.” Marcus smiled. “You should join me. It is a pleasant trip.”

Cecil thought for a second. A first hand account of the train service would be perfect for the paper! The editors would fall in love with it! Oh, that was absolutely perfect. “I would be honored.”

Dana and Jake re-emerged from the upstairs. They were also saying their farewells and making plans for another lunch. Jake happily joined Marcus by his side.

“I’ll alert you to when we are leaving. Farewell Mr. Palmer, Miss Cardinal.” Marcus tipped his hat, as did Jake, and the two left.

Dana was the first to speak. “What did you two talk about?”

Cecil showed his notepad to her. “The next big story. You?”

“Annoying bosses.”

“Oh really? Marcus didn’t seem that- hey wait a second…”

~

Cecil decided to take an evening walk. The town really was beautiful at dusk. Old wooden houses bathed in the golden sunlight. Just beyond the town limits he could see the expanse of the desert, gentle rolling hills of sand framing the horizon. The atmosphere calmed him. This was one of the nicer points of moving out of the city. You couldn’t get these views back home.

Cecil also started to become a little more accustomed to how people dressed about town. He didn’t wear his jacket every time he left his house now. He still refused to go anywhere without a vest, but the air did feel nice through the sleeves of his shirt.

The street was mostly empty. If Cecil was perfectly honest, the only reason he left for the walk was to be alone for a bit and stretch his legs. He was so content he was almost shocked to see another person almost run into him. Was that… the sheriff? What was Earl doing out at this time?

Cecil tipped his hat and walked up to the man. “Peculiar seeing you out at this time.”

Earl looked just as surprised. “You as well. Um. I-it’s nice seeing you, though.”

That was odd. Earl didn’t normally act like this. “Are you feeling well? You’re not normally one to trip over your sentences.”

“No, no…” Earl looked at the dusty ground. “I mean, yes. I-I’m fine.”

Cecil wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Did you have a good day today?”

“Yes, actually. Got a lot of work done, which means more free time tomorrow.” Cecil smiled amicably. “You?”

Earl sighed. “Work was slow. But I was distracted most of the day. You know how things are.”

Cecil raised an eyebrow. “Distracted?” A small smile forms on Cecil lips and he bounces a bit on his toes. “A lovely lady distracting you?”

Earl shook his head. “Not a lady.”

“A gentleman, perhaps?”

“…Yes. A gentleman.”

Every man Cecil knew in town rushed through his head. He felt a little twinge of jealousy at the thought that Earl also had a crush on Carlos, but they were good friends, and it was up to Carlos who he dated. Cecil respected that.

“May I ask who the lucky man is?”

 Earl turned bright red, but didn’t say anything.

Cecil let out a chuckle. “I won’t publish it. Unless you wish me to.”

Earl looked shocked for a second, but cracked a smile. “No need to break the presses. It’s nothing huge and I doubt anything will come of it.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You never know.” Cecil smiled.

“You don’t seem the type to like me.” Earl only realized what he had said after the last few words dribbled out of his mouth. His eyes went wide and he covered his mouth with his hand.

Cecil was about to crack a joke, but stopped before it left his vocal cords. “P-pardon?”

Earl looked like he was about to faint. “I…I-”

“R-Really?” Cecil internally smacked himself a bit after that. That came out harsher than he intended.

“I have to go!” Earl ran off to the sheriff’s office, slamming the door closed.

Cecil was left, dumbfounded in the middle of the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DanaxJake Brotp.
> 
> Wanna look at things? Might I recommend [ here](%E2%80%9Dhitintothecove.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D). I put things there for you to look at and it's lots of fun! Or not. It amuses me at least.


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